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The news was on every media. The kidnapping has been going for four days already. The police waited for the ruffians' first contact, but it never happened. The kidnapped girl's parents couldn't take the lack of information anymore and pleaded daily on newspapers and over the television, begging they released their daughter. All police of Rio de Janeiro were engaged in searching the place of captivity. Deputy Mendonza personally took over the investigation. The case caused a lot of social commotion and the authorities were breathing on his neck already, expecting a swift solution.
"Yes, sir, I know. The appropriate measures have already been taken. Secretary, it's not necessary to remind me how important is this case, you're well aware that I have a personal interest on this subject. Yes, sir, as soon as news arrive."
Mendonza turned off the call, let out a suffering sigh and placed the mobile inside his back pockets.
He sat for a while to sort out his thoughts. The paperwork on his desk seemed endless. He just wanted everything to disappear, that none of that had happened. The Deputy was exhausted. In the last three days he couldn't sleep more than four hours each night. He looked five years older after all the angst lived in those never-ending moments. He couldn't take it anymore. If not for Fontes' help, he'd been overtaken by despair by now.
Deputy Mendonza brushed the sweat off his brow, stood up and headed to the station's toilet. He looked at the mirror and almost didn't recognize himself. He was pale and haggard. But the worst of all was that he didn’t know how many more days that martyrdom would last. He remembered the girl in captivity, imagined how much she could be suffering at that very moment and felt ashamed of his own selfishness. He tried to keep away from his head all the cruel things she could be undergoing, it was too much for his very tired mind. He needed to keep going at any cost and settle the issue as fast as possible. He sat on a toilet with its lid still shut and rested his elbows on the thighs. He didn’t even notice when Fontes entered the bathroom.
“Deputy?” the man called, cautiously.
Mendonza looked up, despondent.
“Ah! Hello, Fontes. Please tell me we have some news.” He begged.
“I’m sorry, Deputy. Not even a call or a note for ransom.”
“This doesn’t make any sense...”
“What’s the point in kidnapping someone and not demand for a ransom?” his friend scratched the scalp.
“What’s the point in kidnapping someone?” the Deputy patched the question.
“Well, yeah, but we can’t give up, I know we’ll find her alive.”
“But at what price, Fontes? What types of malignancy she went through? Is there worth living with so such an enormous trauma?” Mendonza punched the toilet stall.
“Let’s not give in to despair, sir, let’s work with the best outcome in mind.”
“To serve and protect... What kind of world do we live in, Fontes?”
“A world where we need to be strong and help the innocent.”
Mendonza stared at the and, for a brief second, managed a smile. He stood up, patted the detective and also his friend on the back, and returned to office, to his endless paperwork and unsolved case.
